


and we all fell down when the sun came up (I think we've had enough)

by starscollision



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Multi, Road Trips, it's a road trip au, that's pretty much it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starscollision/pseuds/starscollision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Violence towards a public officer - resisting an officer, battery and brawls!"<br/>"I didn't- that was not me, it was <i>them</i>!"<br/>"You stole a car!"<br/>"It was <i>my</i> car!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [millenniumfalcon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/millenniumfalcon/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [millenniumfalcon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/millenniumfalcon/pseuds/millenniumfalcon) in the [pirate_prompts_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pirate_prompts_2016) collection. 



> you really don't have to read this unless you are [lou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/millenniumfalcon) aka [millenniumfalcon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/millenniumfalcon) who prompted this in the [pirate_prompts_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pirate_prompts_2016) collection.  
>  _Roadtrip AU. They all get invited for a weekend to Miranda and Thomas' country house so they take a couple of cars and drive there all together, with all the shenanigans that will ensue - such as getting lost, recreational drugs, fist fights and maybe even getting arrested. I am partial to James/Thomas and Jack/Anne but it doesn't have to be relationshippy - it just has to be silly and fun!_  
> 

He had never imagined things would have gone so bad in so little time.  
Now don’t get him wrong, James had known from the very first moment this was going to end badly, he was no fool - but not even in the worst case scenarios he had played in his mind countless times he could have ever imagined ending up in a small interrogation room with nothing but two chairs and a table to distract him from the one-sided glass towering at his side.  
Surprisingly, he had been way too optimistic about how things would have gone - he had always imagined that chaos would have started to unfold after they had arrived to destination, but guess fucking what: life was full of surprises. Not even knowing that he had been right about how bad of an idea this was could make him feel any better right now, not with Thomas glance fixed on him piercing like needles on his skin.  
"The policemen said that they are going to withdraw the complaint." Thomas spoke for the first time since he had sat down (aside from a shocked _What happened to your jaw?_ in lieu of greeting), his voice calm like he would have been with any client but with an angry expression - or the closest thing to anger Thomas could manage - on his face that made James' stomach twitch and his mouth dry. Thomas had never been angry at him, ever. It made him feel strung out like a fucking guitar.  
"Well, good." he commented after a long pause, unable to hide his scorned tone: "It's a good thing, isn't it?"  
"Of course. Now we have to persuade them to withdraw the other seven ones and your problems will be solved in the blink of an eye." Thomas said sarcastically - had Thomas ever even been sarcastic before?, James wondered feeling sweat forming on the back of his neck.  
Seven. Weird - he had counted at least ten.  
"I told you this was a bad id..." he protested weakly, but his voice was covered by Thomas' loud sigh as he laid back against the chair, shaking his head in stunned disbelief with his mouth half-open.  
"How-" he groaned staring at the papers in front of him, then looking back at James: "How is this even possible?"  
"I told you it would have been a mess."  
"You said inviting them was not a good idea, how could I imagine that you wouldn’t have managed to even reach our house- it was a seven hours car ride! How did you turn it into a three days journey and get yourself arrested - look at these charges!" he gestured the notebook he always carried with himself, scribbled disorderly here and there: "Violence towards a public officer - resisting an officer, battery and brawls!"  
"I didn't- that was not me, it was _them_!"  
"You stole a car!"  
"It was _my_ car!" he protested almost slamming his fist on the table enraged at the mere memory of the night. But this was Thomas, so he managed to stop himself and just crack his fingers, putting both his hands on his tights and holding the fabric of his trousers to avoid any other excessive reaction.  
"I'm sorry, I - I didn't mean to- but I have a good explanation for that, and all the rest it was not my fault! It was hardly ever me!"  
"Well, you will have to be more specific than that and tell me everything about this mess if you want to get out of here any soon." Thomas said as he draw a straight line on a blank page: "I'll need to listen to you all, one by one, to make sure your versions match and that you are telling the truth."  
"Wait, I thought you were my lawyer."  
"I decided to represent you all. I'm sure they wouldn't try you one by one, so I might as well get you all out of this." he said, and then added: "If there is ever going to be a trial at all, but I don't think so."  
Let's hope so, James thought as he laid back against the backrest. Had it got to that, he could have only pled guilty - by association, _fuck those idiots_ \- and have a taste of Scottish prison.  
“I’m sorry.” he repeated again: “I’m sorry, I- I should have insisted, or better I should have lied to you and cancelled the plans.” he stared at the metal table for a moment, and then asked tentatively: “Does Miranda know about what happened?”  
“Roughly. I told her there was a car crash and you needed a lawyer, but I reckon she just thinks you had an accident. Again.” he pointed out, tapping a scribble on his paper: “Speaking of which, the officer told me that among other things none of you had any proof of a report for your car accident- how is that?”  
James shifted in his seat. “Does it really matter?”  
“Everything matters in this situation.” Thomas pointed out and he hummed feeling his cheek turn a dark shade of red.  
“Because it was our cars.”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“It was our cars. The accident- it was the two of us, so we thought it didn’t really matter...” he felt mortified, and shifted in his seat uncomfortable as Thomas opened his mouth and then closed it with a frown.  
“Was it...did you-”  
“She pulled up short, I didn’t manage to brake in time alright? We were- well, she was arguing and she didn’t see a sign and....” he explained weakly, cursing himself for the bad usage of his one phone call: he shouldn’t have called Thomas - he should have pretended to be dead and run far, far away from them. Thomas was probably going to leave him anyway after he had heard the whole story.  
In his infinite kindness, Thomas decided not to investigate any further on the matter. “We’ll come back to this later.” He said taking a note that ended with a exclamation point, and then run his hand through his hair again. If he looked exhausted now, James thought, he probably was not going to survive the whole story.  
“So, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”


	2. one

"You could have said _no_."  
"Fifteen double bedrooms. How do you say no to fifteen double bedrooms?"  
From behind his enormous trolley splayed on the pub counter - a thing that went probably against a dozen health regulations Flint reckoned, but thankfully Vane had never been a stickler for those - Silver looked so disarmingly clueless about why Flint was so desperate about the whole situation he guessed there was no point on explaining, or asking or begging. He could just stare the same way people look at a natural disaster unfolding in front of their eyes.  
"You don't even know them. How can you blindly accept an invitation for a week out of town from someone you don't even know?"  
"But I know you, and I know that if you like them as much as you do you they must be adorable people. Besides, it would have been shitty of me to refuse." he shrugged, unconcerned: "And it won't be me and them. It will be, well, us and them."  
Us, obviously. Flint didn't even know the extent of that us, because neither Silver nor Miranda had yet told him how many people would have tagged along precisely. She had simply extended the invitation to anyone James might have liked to bring along for a weeklong vacation in their "country house" in Scotland. Country house, of course, was merely an euphemism: a quick search online had revealed that it was an actual castle, regardless of Miranda' dismissal as she demanded again to know how many people did he want to bring along.  
"I don't want to bring anyone." he had tried to protest once again, but she had just smiled softly and run her hand on his shoulder while looking at herself in a mirror in her perfect living room, fixing her perfect tailored white suit that matched her perfect shoes and perfect jewels around her perfect neck.  
“You are too private. I am sure your friends are nice people and there is no real need to hide them like you do - and even if there was, Thomas can fix any trouble they're in.” she joked lightly, although James just hummed back without meeting her eyes.  
Truth be told, it had very little to do with being a private person, but rather with the fact that he simply didn't want them to know about his life, as if he had been two completely different people split in two completely opposite worlds. He was either James, with Thomas and Miranda in their perfect Belgravia house, impeccable to the point he still couldn't quite feel at ease in it, and then there was Flint, his Holloway flat and, well, them. His _friends_. If he could even call them friends - more precisely they were the people he spent his spare time with, but surely not someone he would have liked to introduce to Thomas and Miranda. Like Billy, or Anne, or Silver.  
God, definitely not Silver. As the good and kind people they were Thomas and Miranda would have found a way to appreciate anyone, even Vane perhaps (let's say he could have worked with that, perhaps slipping him a couple of sleeping pills to stun him into silence for most part of the week), but if Silver started to be his usual self around them and tell them of all the "great adventures" they had together- many of which included things he had carefully eliminated all evidence of – they could have started to question James' past, and him in general and their relationship with him.  
And then he would have been forced to kill him with his bare hands. There was no other way it could have ended - even though Silver ignored his possible imminent death, and even jeopardised his life further by keeping the invitations secret to Flint. He had only spilled out that according to the latest news they would have probably needed two cars - Flint's car, because with his charming smile and perfect teeth Silver had managed to navigate through life up until this point without even owning a car.  
"And frankly, I find your reticence quite offensive. I know how to behave around people, and so do the others. We're not animals." he slammed the trolley closed and locked it, then his face brightened up again in a smile: "And I really do look forward to a vacation. It's been a while."  
"I work with you. You really don't need any kind of vacation." Flint growled with his wrist against his forehead to keep his pulsing veins in place as Silver moved closer to him and with a sympathetic tilt of his head he patted his shoulder.  
"You're only projecting on us your fear of being inadequate to someone whom you think to be above your social position." Silver declared, and then simply dragged the trolley outside the pub door leaving Flint frowning by himself.  
That was typical of Silver: just as you were going to brand him as an irritating, big-eyed clueless brat he said something impressively smart that left you dumb folded.  
Flint hated that about him.  
He would have protested that it wasn't like that- even though at the bottom of his heart he knew it did was true, but he still had many doubts about his "friends" meeting Thomas and Miranda - but he only managed to open his mouth before a loud blare from outside put an end to any further protests he might have come up with. He almost felt like he was walking the green mile when he closed the pub door behind his back as Silver opened the door of his parked car against which Billy was playing with his phone.  
"Billy? Why did you invite Billy?"  
"Well that's quite the greeting." the blond said without raising his eyes from the phone. Silver merely shrugged.  
"Friend."  
" _Your_ friend."  
"They said to bring along friends, that there was plenty of space." he answered innocently closing the trunk - Flint's trunk - as a second, black car gracefully stopped few meters from them.  
"Did you invite them as well?"  
"Don't be stupid, Eleanor doesn't need to be invited to a country house." Silver pointed out with an obvious tone: "She is coming along but she's not staying at your friends' place. She has a small cottage nearby - or at least so she said. It's probably a castle as well. I wonder how many bedrooms does she have." he hummed thoughtfully: "Perhaps I should ask her and then maybe turn Miranda's offer down."  
"Don't count on that." Max heavy accented voice said from the car window with a bored tone, impeccable as she always was: "You are not invited. We're just giving you a lift because it would have been awkward not to."  
"With _we_ you mean...?" Flint asked carefully hoping it was Eleanor she was talking about- but then as he had expected he noticed two other people sitting in the back of the car whose names he didn't need to ask for. He knew way too well who they must have been.  
"So there's eight of us, and six of us are staying at Thomas' place. Or seven." he counted. He had decided months ago he didn't really have time to keep up with everyone's tremendous sentimental lives, especially Eleanor and Vane and their break-ups and make-up sex, so as far as he knew they might have been spending their holidays together in bed or they might have wanted to cut tires and spite one another.  
The answer came from a bored, muffled voice from the backseat of Eleanor car, which sounded like a snort and a _no_ that made Max roll her eyes and Eleanor turn, ignoring the broad figure of Vane slamming the door behind his back with a grunt and without even aknowleding the presence of Eleanor's car.  
So it was cut tires and spiting then, Flint realized as he mentally added points to the bullet list of things he needed to persuade them to change about themselves with bribes or intimidation.  
"Are you coming like this?" he asked keeping his voice as casual as possible as he threw his bag - too small to contain as many clothes as he wished he had brought along - in the open trunk and slammed it down.  
He looked back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Like what?"  
"You do realize you are not wearing a shirt?"  
He just frowned.  
"It's July. Why the fuck should I wear a shirt?"  
"Right, why would you." It was going to be a long, long trip with a lot of work to do about them. Or he could always pretend he didn't know where he was going and head towards another place, he reckoned. It might have been his only chance to keep contacts with Thomas and Miranda.  
"You don't mind we keep the communications open with the other car, do you?" Silver asked setting his phone on the car charger- Flint's car charger, obviously - and turning the speaker on: "Eleanor will lead the way."  
"Can't you just use a nav?"  
"I know the quickest way to get there and where to stop if we need to." Eleanor's calm voice answered slowly as if talking to a dumb child, which prompted a grunt from behind that swiped away any further doubts about the current relationship between her and Vane.  
"How long do you think it would take more or less to get there, without counting the stops?"  
"About seven hours, more or less."  
Great, seven hours and at least a lunch and dinner with the two parts of a bitter breakup live on inter phone. And what was worse, at the end of the trip it was going to be Charles the one who would have stayed at the place Miranda had carefully surely turned into a marvellous home worth of being featured on architecture magazines, with his absence of shirts - and considering the ones he had perhaps it was even for the best - his awful cigarettes and cigars and the baseball bat he kept under the counter and that Flint had seen him use way too many times. He had to persuade them into acting like someone else for the rest of the weeks, but he needed to be subtle, he reminded himself.  
Or at least he tried. He managed to remain silent and listen to the weather forecast up until London's borders before turning the radio down.  
"And don't tell Miranda about that thing that has happened three July ago when those guys were talking shit about Thomas and the trial-"  
"That time you almost punched the teeth out of that guy's mouth?" Billy asked raising an eyebrow, as Silver laughed and shook his head.  
"Damn, what a night that was. Why didn't you tell him, it was nice of you."  
"I don't know how much he would appreciate knowing that teeth have almost been punched out in his name." Max commented placidly: "But it was, indeed, quite nice of you."  
"I told you."  
"Well, I don't want him to know. And don't mention that time we went to Brighton to do that thing." he looked at them in the rear mirror, frowning: "I am serious."  
"I won't say a word, don't worry. Won't even meet the man's eyes." Billy shrugged, unconcerned, as Flint took time to inspect him. Billy was alright - Billy was good enough with people, he knew how to behave around others. As long as he didn't talk to much, and he never did, he would have passed unnoticed.  
Yeah, he was fine- he turned his attention towards Vane, who grunted something as Flint pointed out: "Also, no stories about what happens after eleven at the pub."  
"I can do whatever I fucking want in my pub after eleven o'clock."  
"That's the point, legally you can't. So I'd advise you not to talk about it in a lawyer's house- and put something on before we get there, will you? A shower wouldn't be that bad just as well." he muttered, although Vane simply raised his eyes and did not answer, just looked outside the car window saying something about how he didn't see the point of that.  
Lost cause. He turned towards Silver, who raised his hands and shook his head.  
"To me you are a man with no past or present. I barely know you."  
"Good. Also, don't..." he remained with his mouth open and a doubt in mind, wondering how he could have phrased what he meant. From the bottom of his heart all he wanted to say was _no_. "Don't mention how we met."  
"Told you, I don't even know you."  
"And try not to...cause problems. Don't say bullshit that you can't keep up with like the whole cook story you invented when you were looking for a job, just- don't bullshit anyone."  
"Listen, don't treat us like assholes." Anne's stark voice intervened from the phone: "We might not be Belgravia breed like your friends, but we are not savages. We know how to behave in public places, for fuck's sake."  
That was something he wouldn't have bet his money on Flint thought with a low hum as answer and just turning the radio on again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry lou.


End file.
